


Divertimento: The Rehearsal Dinner

by B_Radley



Series: Rise and Fight Again [28]
Category: Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Competition, Drinking Games, Gen, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 07:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13852908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley
Summary: A Zeltron wedding rehearsal. Not what you would expect.





	Divertimento: The Rehearsal Dinner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SLWalker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLWalker/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Land of Song](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11578503) by [B_Radley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley). 



The warrior watches her opponent through narrowed eyes.

Narrowed, as well as somewhat foggy.

She turns to her so-called ally.

“Don’t look at me, Runt,” he says. “You let your mouth talk you into something your ass can’t back up.” The crooked grin spreads across his face. “You’re about to get it kicked by a senior citizen.”

“Watch it, pup,” the ‘senior citizen’ says,” her permanently black eyes gazing at him. Permanently black as well as bloodshot and barely fixed on him. “There’s still time for that test-ride tonight,” she says. “I have to make sure that you are good enough for this huntress.”

He starts to reply. The other combatant holds up an orange hand, her palm nearly in his face. “Quiet, Bait,” she says. “I’m concentrating.” To prove her point, she allows her head to waver nearly over into his hip.

There is a murmur from the other crimson figures behind her opponent. Credits change hands.

Ahsoka straightens holds up her hand again, this time to the chattering class. She places the hand down, next to the small shot glass. A glass filled with a clear liquid. She signals to the tall Zeltron male standing off to the side, watching the proceedings with amusement. The _Zoetarch,_ elected monarch of Zeltros, probably should not be involved in a drinking contest between the protector of his world—the Chalice of Omri and a powerful friend and ally to this same joyous world. One who had nearly died protecting a few months ago. Especially at this occasion.

Bryne Covenant watches as Boman Torstan’ii shakes his head. He brings the flame down to the shot glass, lighting the liquid within. Kanylynaan na’ Torstan’ii, his current heart-bond looks at Alyysina Faygan’ii, the soon-to-be addition to the bond. Both women roll their eyes.

No one is sure how the contest got started. The peace of the rehearsal of the bonding ceremony—a near facsimile of tomorrow’s ceremony, albeit with more clothing for the participants than the actual ceremony, had been tested by a friendly debate over the various whiskies and hard liquors of the galaxy.

It has soon devolved into this contest—Corellian Whyren’s vs. Zeltron Torlos, when it was decided that strip sabacc was out of the question when it was revealed that Alyys Faygan, namesake and aunt of the bond-candidate, was singularly inept at sabacc and Ahsoka Tano had never been beaten at the game.

Except by the sovereign ruler of Alderaan. A contest that was never spoken of.

Ahsoka was about to attempt her twelfth shot.

She lifts the glass, then pauses, resting the glass of Torlos against her head. The flame flickers over her orange skin as she closes her eyes. Bryne Covenant holds his breath at the flame, a requirement for drinking the Zeltron liquor. The murmur rises again. She shakes her head slightly, then brings the teardrop shaped glass to her lips. There is no hesitation as she downs it.

She slams the glass down, upside down next to the other eleven dead soldiers.

All eyes are on the Chalice. She takes her own deep breath, then picks up the glass of Corellian whisky—Ahsoka’s choice.

She raises it to her opponent, then downs it, her head going all the way back. All the way backwards as her black eyes fix on the sky. Covenant feels a weight against his hip again, as Ahsoka’s eyes roll back. He manages to catch her as a smile grows on her face.

A fixed smile that is matched on Alyys’s. Kanyly and Sina manage to catch the Chalice.

“What in the name of the nine Corellian hells is going on here?” comes a sharp voice.

Bryne looks sheepishly at his toes, still holding the smiling huntress in his arms. Daaineran Faygan, daughter of the Chalice, and sister-of-the-heart of Ahsoka, stands with her arms folded, looking at them all. A young human, staring at the tableau with wide brown eyes, stands next to her.

“I go to pickup another guest,” she says, indicating Meglann, “and this is what happens.”

She looks at Covenant. “Ordinarily, I would blame you for this, bud.” She holds up her hands at the burgeoning protests. “But I know all of the parties involved. It it wasn’t this, it would probably be underwater basket weaving.” She shifts her view from Ahsoka to Alyys. “I guess neither the Force nor the power of the Chalice was a match for a dozen shots,” she whispers to Bryne.

She points at Meglann. “You. Help Bryne with the huntress.” The loaded index finger moves to the three celebrants. “You three. Say your goodnights. It’s almost midnight. You can’t see each other before the reaffirmation and then the bonding ceremony. That is my command as Rector of this ceremony.”

She points to one of Boman and Kanylynaan’s granddaughters, watching everything with amusement. “Ereena, dear, give me a hand in tucking in the Chalice. I am sure that the new Caretaker will be overjoyed at this sight.”

She unfolds her arms as everyone scrambles to obey. She picks up a glass from each of the rows, downs first one, and then the other.

Her expression softens as she thinks of the respite. A respite from the fight, if only for a few days.

A few days of living.

Her eyes lock on the abandoned pile of credits. With a smile reminiscent of her father a particular Corellian reptile, she pockets the credits. _Might buy an extra bonding gift. Plus something for Ahsoka._

_All’s fair in love and war._


End file.
